museboxings | let your instincts break the rules

let your instincts break the rules

[It is an excellent thing, sometimes, that their group is always so busy. When night falls and they have struck their tents, too many of them are exhausted enough to tarry long around the fire. There is the occasional night when Leliana strikes up a story or one of the others insists on discussion, the Warden often chiming in to discuss strategies, their path, and the morning's journey. Morrigan most often keeps to herself at her end of camp, making what she wills and reading from the tomes they often pick up on their journey.

Tonight is no different: most of the others retire to their tents early - all save Sten - and she offers to take first watch. The Qunari is more than willing to give her a wide berth and so she is granted more privacy than she needs, lucky her. There is enough for her to dwell on in the wake of the possession of the Arl's son, the battle at Redcliffe, and their early morning's march that will take them to their next destination.

The castle had been quaint and full of memories of Alistair, many of which he provided for them. In the wake of such horrors, she supposes he cannot be blamed for withdrawing. It does not give her much reason to continue to contemplate the situation nor on him. It is a weakness, she tells herself, because these are not feelings. There is a purpose to all of this. One day, she will have to implore the Warden to make a choice and Alistair will be part of it. He is a piece of the whole - a small piece, she reminds herself - and that is it.

It is a shame. For all that he infuriates her, he has his good qualities. It's that mouth she hates most of all. With a sigh, she goes back to her book, stoking the fire at her side the wave of a hand.]

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Would you have even thought of taking it if I'd said it was something I found? For you?

[Oh, this was going well already. Of course she immediately knew that something was up. It wasn't his fault he'd been hoping that she was somehow off of her game enough after going through the Fade to think that perhaps the Warden wanted to give her something and had simply forgotten before going to sleep?

He wouldn't lie outright about it, at least. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for her answer, lips turned into a small scowl of his own.]

I would wonder where you even thought to look for it, first. If you were anyone else, I would think it was cursed.

[But Alistair was too...genuine for such things, not to mention his distaste for magic. And apostasy. Let's not forget that. Still, it did not negate the fact that he was giving her a gift, a gift she actually liked. That meant he had given thought to what he had found. It was not an impulsive offering.]

Why give this to me?

There was a band of merchants who ... were not so lucky, running into the bandits. They were grateful for our help. If it was cursed, I would think they'd have put it in the back of their caravan and not given it to their rescuers.

[Which isn't to say he still didn't feel a taking it from their little box of things, but it does mean that he in fact spent some time picking it out from among the other options. Alistair sees more than people give him credit for, more often than not.

As for why he is giving it to her, well -- he isn't sure how to answer that. 'Because I want you to like me' sounds small and childish, so even if it's the closest to the truth, he doesn't say so.]

You didn't have to help out at Redcliffe, in the Fade. You could've just pretended to walk about and try to find the boy, but you didn't.

[So it was -- what, a reward for good behaviour? Andraste's tits, that sounded even worse than wanting her to like him. He kicked his foot in the dust again.]

So I wanted you to have it. As a thanks. From -- ah, me.

[Morrigan began her usual routine of an eyeroll and a sigh, stopping just short of the latter as his story quickly diverted to talk of Redcliffe and his family. It brought her up cold and she was silent, her stance uneven.

It was possible that the comment stung just a little, though she would never admit it to herself, much less to Alistair. His opinion had always meant very little, as did everyone else's (I am myself and I have no reason to be sorry). But as much as she joked about kidnapping children and spiriting them away to their homely shack in the wilds, it was not a reality she would ever partake in.]

Contrary to proper belief, I do not hurt those who do not invoke my ire. The boy had made a mistake in trying to help his father. His magic is great, even at such a young age. I would not punish him further by pretending to look for him.

[Eamon was still sick. They would still need to find the ashes. It was an impossible task, one she doubted they would accomplish, but she would not add insult to injury by refusing to find a lost child in the Fade.]

Your thanks is unnecessary. [She paused.] But it is...appreciated. As is your gift. You have my thanks, in turn.

[With careful fingers, she opened the clasp and slipped it onto her wrist. It dangled when she closed it again and it was, admittedly, beautiful.]

To think that you looted a group of bandits. I am most surprised at you.

[Yes, that was a bit of humor in her voice.]

Edited 2013-08-08 02:07 (UTC)

It wasn't so much looting as it was returning stolen property and then being told that I should keep it, really.

[Still, this was all going much better than he had ever dared to hope it would. It was not going to make any of his endeavours easier, however, as part of him had been thinking she would simply shun his gift and confirm to him that she was an unfeeling spider-witch-thief, negating any sort of attraction that he had for her.

Andraste was testing him, he was sure of it. He was pleased with the way she put it on, though, and it showed -- he smiled genuinely and openly, if for only a moment or two. If any of the others in the group had witnessed this, perhaps they would believe him when telling the rest. As it was, well -- he'd keep this for himself. Maybe it was better that way.]

-- you're welcome, accusing me of stealing aside. It suits you.

[And here he'd been trying not to awkwardly compliment her. He coughed.]

Not that things -- wouldn't, I'm sure that you could be wearing mud and it would be -- fine.

[Why could his mouth not stop saying things...]

A shame. And here I thought you'd finally slipped up a little.

[Not a chance. Alistair was too good, sometimes, for their group. Zevran would joke as he liked about killing and even Leliana had done her share of destruction. Sten was a warrior who knew little else but war. But Alistair still had a heart that hadn't been worn down. It was equally revolting and admirable.

She quietly snorted.]

The Warden and the others would have few qualms about taking back what was stolen. You could have used it to give yourself a few extra sovereigns.

[If indeed it was worth so much. Morrigan cared little for the price. She liked it as it was. Twisting the bangle slightly so she could look at the jewel, she stopped short and lifted her gaze to his.]

Your seduction skills could use some fine tuning. I'm uncertain whether I should feel offended or mildly flattered that you find something so alluring that grime does not bother you overmuch.

Aren't you the one who's eager to assume that I like to wallow in barrels of filth anyway? It should be fitting to my desires and needs, right?

[...all right, so he wasn't winning any points here. Still, she was indeed not completely blowing him off. It was oddly encouraging, really. Maybe it would give him something to think about other than the utter death and destruction that was presented to them on a daily basis.]

And as for using it to give myself sovereigns, I doubt I have such a dire need of anything that I could not wait.

[They were flush with weapons and armour of late, so what else could he really want? Aside from what was in front of him, of course.]

Forgive my lack of seduction skills, as I haven't exactly had much -- any -- practice.

As you believe I dance around in a swamp and kidnap children. Or men.

[A pastime her mother enjoyed. Morrigan had done her sharing of ensnaring in her time, an enjoyable game, but she would never bring them home. Better to leave them scattered and uncertain in the wilds to wonder if an encounter had truly happened than to leave them helpless and at her mother's clutches. For all that she was unkind, she is not heartless and unfeeling.

She lifted a hand briefly to indicate his chest, where his armor would hang.]

Your tower walls were high and your education lacking. You were not meant to learn such things. Your Chantry sees it as unclean.

[Her smile was brief, more inviting than snide.]

As 'uncultured' as I am, I had a freedom you did not.

That doesn't mean I didn't try to learn things the Chantry didn't want me to.

[Women, though, ones that weren't already fish wives or members of the cloth, were harder to find. If he hadn't known any better - and perhaps he hadn't - he might've tho right thought Morrigan was offering to teach him.]

And for all that people think I'm slow and dense, I take very well to instruction.

I imagine that was quite difficult.

[The thought alone was altogether amusing: Alistair looking for someone to practice on, someone to flirt with. Poor man, alone in his bed, hoping no one would hear him... Morrigan's smile curled at the edges.]

Is that why you came to me before, then? Were you looking for instruction?

W--

[He can feel his cheeks heating up against his will. She's still a pretty woman whatever he might say about her lack of modesty, and she's more or less offering herself to him. It's ... Tempting, and he finds his words before he thinks them through. In truth, he would never take things so lightly. If that is how she needs to think of it, though...]

Yes. I am here for...that.

"That."

[Her smile was coy enough, arms folded loosely over her chest. He would not be the first she lured to her bed, nor the last, if this was what he truly wished. Morrigan stepped toward him, curling a finger briefly in his direction.]

You have the option to say no, of course, if this displeases you.

[But this was the second advancement he'd made on her. She highly doubted it disgusted him.]

Yes. Instruction.

[He doesn't want to call it 'practice', because again -- he isn't actually going into this lightly. He's pretty sure he's going to chicken out before Morrigan has a chance to completely corrupt him, but he'll cross that bridge when he gets to it. He takes a step toward her in return and takes the initiative to at least take her hand.]

I'm not. Saying no, I mean.

[To see him so flustered is well worth just leading him on. But he's bold, she'll give him that, and Morrigan isn't of the mind to crush his hopes entirely. She wonders if he'll leap away like a toad if she tries to kiss him. As he takes her hand, she steps toward him. One last, brief look is thrown over his shoulder to see where Sten is patrolling. She will not embarrass him by calling too much attention to what they are doing.]

No, I suppose you are not.

[Carefully, Morrigan lifts her hand to his cheek and coaxes him closer.]

I assure you that it will not as bad as you imagine.

[Then she tilts her head and kisses him.]

[He's fairly certain that since she hasn't transformed into a spider and tried to mate with him that way yet, there's no way that it could indeed be as bad as he was thinking that it might be. Still, she's being oddly careful with him -- and it's appreciated. He doesn't hesitate in leaning into the kiss, as eager as promised -- his hand comes to the small of her back naturally to support her, encouraging her to lean into him.

He's a hefty boy, after all -- he can support her!]

Oh, I'm sure it won't be bad. From your end, at least.

[Alistair is more than a little eager which is...not surprising, really, since this is what he said he wanted. But she still has reservations and wonders, truly, if this isn't to be some wild joke.

And if he thinks he can pull a poor joke on her, she will turn into a spider and make him regret it.

Morrigan takes a step towards him, closing the gap until they are nearly flush together. There is a smile on her lips, palpable against his own.]

Again with this flattery. [She settles a hand on his chest.] A word of advice: relax.

[Relax. Right, because that was exactly the easiest thing to when a beautiful woman was offering to tutor him in the ways of -- sex-type-things. If this is to be a joke, he's not doing a very good job of setting it up. Nobody else is out of their tents, and it's the middle of the night.

He lets out a soft sound at the hand of his chest and then clears his throat, somewhat embarrassed at how easily stimulated he is. This is going to end in him ... joining the party early, he just knows it. So, he focuses for a moment and then lets his hand wander to Morrigan's hip again, fluttering fingers over bare flesh.]

I'll ... try.

Edited 2013-08-09 00:37 (UTC)

[The hand at her hip is a start. He is more easily swayed than she thought. Perhaps this is not a joke after all. Morrigan knows better than to let her guard down so easily, especially around someone with Alistair's particular training, but she lets him close, lets him take his time in exploring what feels just right and what he's comfortable with.

The kiss is surprisingly tender for the moment, sweet, as it would be with him. She wraps one arm around his shoulders to cement the contact, moving her mouth so she can fix around his lower lip and tug gently.]

[He'd have a hard time getting into his Templar mindset in his current situation. It's easy for him to fall into the kiss and try to concentrate a little -- his shoulders do finally relax, though, and he's a tiny bit less jumpy.

His other hand threads into her hair, drawing her closer against him.]

[Morrigan makes a sound, unbidden, against his lips once they are flush. He is warm in the cool night air, as inviting as she was before, and she is loathe to even contemplate the idea of sending him away now. She nips at his lower lip, careful and surprisingly gentle - she doesn't want to startle him - for the moment.

The hand at his chest snakes down to his hip and pushes up beneath his tunic, finding the strong and defined muscles of his stomach which she can admire through touch instead of sight.]

[Oh, she's touching his stomach and -- he takes a breath in, forcing himself to speak even though he doesn't like the idea of pulling his lips away from hers right now.]

Perhaps ... somewhere more private?

[At least now his mind is distracted by what Morrigan's little hut might have inside of it. Hopefully not any shrunken heads or anything like that.]

[She hums thoughtfully as he pulls away, as though having to contemplate whether she wants to entertain his request. At length, she gives him a flicker of a smile, wry.]

A sound idea. Come.

[Stepping away, she moves back to her little hut and pushes aside one of the red drapes that serve for a cover. The inside of her 'tent' is not so large as it appears from the outside, but roomy. There's a bedroll in the corner and two books to the side, obviously more reading material. Her pack is also there but little else. Her potions and herbs are inside, tucked away.]

It is not so big, I'm afraid, but I don't expect company.

[Alistair has to bite his lip to keep from making a smart comment about her not needing much room to lure someone to their death -- that doesn't seem like the best plan right now.

He is worried for a moment that she's changed her mind, and so when she invites him inside he goes just a little hastily.]

It's cleaner than mine.

[Truth be told, she's surprised he hasn't protested against using his tent...and yet, thinking on it, she's grateful they're in hers. She shoots him a look from over her shoulder, one that's more amused than anything else.]

And somehow that does not surprise me. You often complain of losing your socks.

[Morrigan takes a few moments to survey her living arrangements to best decide where they would be more comfortable. She goes to her pack and pulls out a cloak she has packed away and spreads it down beside the bedroll and furs beside it, hoping to at least give the semblance of something usable, if only to let him be at ease. She goes to sit and beckons him down with a hand.]

[While he might pretend to be more comfortable in his own tent, the fact is that it really is sort of messy and he'd probably be more worried about accidentally stepping on some sort of rabid animal concealed under a smallcloth.

He gives her a sort of lopsided smile and dropped down next to her.]

And here I was expecting you to want to bind me up by now.

[Or bind his mouth shut, at least. That might still have to happen.]

Well, if that's what you'd like...

[But that might frighten him a bit too much. Gagging, of course, is still an option. Morrigan smirks in his direction and takes him by the chin for another brief kiss.]

But you can divulge your fantasies to me later, hm?

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let your instincts break the rules

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